There's one thing about armpit industrial towns; they all have a Starbucks. They may have gas station brands you've never heard of and people who look tired and burnt out. But everywhere there is a Starbucks for you to sneak into while the man in the smock tells you it'll be another hour before he's done and you're on the clock with no place to go. Even during the middle of the day there's a few kids hogging a table with no coffee, a young man with a laptop, and a few friends catching up. I'd like to think the older man in front of me with nothing but a notebook and a pen was working on the next great American novel. I was working on finishing a sci fi novel and some coffee cake.